


Masquerade

by mediocrityatbest



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxceitmus, Its a good time, M/M, Multi, This is a, at all, i swear i write better than how these tags make it look, roman is barely in this, story alright?, there is background moralogince, there is some funky remus dialogue in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 02:37:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21246119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediocrityatbest/pseuds/mediocrityatbest
Summary: This is for Sanders Sides Spooky Month hosted by @sanderssidescelebrations on Tumblr!Day Thirteen Prompt: Costume partyDee is the Prince Consort to Prince Remus. They've been dating another man for quite a while now and they believe it's time the rest of the kingdom - and the King, Remus's brother Roman - finally learn about their newest partner. In the most spectacular fashion possible, of course.





	Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

> I had to interpret 'costume party' really creatively and stretch the limits of the definition to come up with an idea I could actually use, but I did! Here it is! It's not really a costume party, but I'd rather attend a masquerade anyway!
> 
> I did not think I was going to get all thirteen fucking days done, and to be fair I barely did, but I did it! I did it and I am so tired now. I'm never writing again.
> 
> I had a good time with this one. I hope y'all enjoy it.

Dee pulls the shining gold half-face mask on and grins at himself in the mirror. His sleek black suit, shining yellow cape, and slicked back black hair cuts a sharp figure. It isn’t an ornate outfit, but it does imply a certain modicum of respect and prestige. It will certainly catch his beau’s eye, which is Dee’s main goal tonight. That, and beating Remus.

Remus stands across the room, making faces at himself in the mirror. He had designed the ugliest outfit Dee had ever seen for this event - all green, with a green paisley print on the green jacket and green polka dots on his green skirt and green stripes on his tie and even green shoes. The whole thing is only something Remus could have come up with, and there will be no doubt at the masquerade ball that he is Prince Remus.

“Darling,” Dee says, “have you considered something a bit less, I don’t know, obvious?”

“No,” Remus responds. “Why would I? I want Virgil to know exactly who it is that’s after his attentions.”

“And there will be no doubt in anyone’s mind of that,” Dee says dryly. Remus grins wildly and slid on his (you guessed it) green mask. That, at least, is not such an awful shade, though it doesn’t mean much when paired with rest of the monstrosity Remus claims is an outfit.

“So, how are you planning to attract our lovely little mate?” Remus asks, running lipstick (green) over his mouth.

“Trying to cheat already, are we?” Dee asks, and he smiles slightly at the pout that contorts Remus’s face behind the mask. “That’s quite alright; you _ do _ need the pointers.”

“Well, then why don’t you come over here and teach me?” Remus quips. Dee is tempted to stalk across the room, pin Remus’s hips to the counter behind him and wipe that smirk right off his face, but he knows that it would both ruin his presentability and make them both late to the ball. So instead, Dee winks.

“I certainly will teach you. Tonight, when you’re begging to know how I got our little Stormcloud and you didn’t.”

“You talk big game for such a short person,” Remus says. Dee bares his teeth while Remus laughs.

“I’m going to make you pay for that one,” he says. Remus just keeps laughing, so Dee spins on a heel and strides out. He’ll rub it in his husband's face when he is the one who wins their little tailor’s heart. (It had started as simple infatuation, a desire to be with the pretty man who always so readily fixed up Prince Remus’s torn clothing. But then it grew, and they realized he was actually smart and sarcastic enough to combat Dee and easily able to handle all of Remus, and...now it was something much greater than mere infatuation. That is why they’ve been courting him for one year, in secret at his own request. But this ball? This would be their official announcement. Not that anyone except the three of them knew that yet.)

Dee lets the petty look on his face melt away, and then he smirks as suavely as he can. He’s walking down the hallway alone and has nothing to be smirking about, yes, but it pays to be prepared and Dee will not let this opportunity to woo such an amazing man get away from him. He will get his first official kiss from Virgil Tailor before Remus.

Which is not to say it will be their first kiss. They’ve done _ plenty _ of things aside from kiss.

“Prince Consort,” says one guard standing in front of the ballroom doors. “Good evening. Are you looking for Prince Remus?”

“Good evening,” Dee sighs, “and no. I just left him in his rooms. We are attending the ball separately.” Dee watches the guards’ faces carefully. His wording will make it seem like he and Remus are having problems. It will give Remus’s brother, reigning monarch King Roman Arvanitis, an absolute heart attack, which is something that both Dee and Remus can find delight in. (And after tonight, if all goes well, maybe Virgil too.)

“Right, of course,” says the guard, bowing his head. “My apologies for any troubles you may be having. Do you wish to go into the ball now, uh?”

Dee forces himself to hold back a laugh. They never have known how to address him. “Indeed. If you would.” He gestures at the doors, and the guards scramble to open them for him. He smirks as he passes.

“Enjoy your evening, Prince Consort,” fumbles another guard.

“And you yours,” Dee says. He walks through the doors and is standing atop the platform reserved for only the most distinguished members of the kingdom. There is a sprawling staircase that leads down to the floor, and everyone watches as Dee descends them smoothly. They clap politely once his feet are on the floor, and seconds later they are all back to their conversations and sipping from their flutes.

Dee finds the striking purple outfit just from a few seconds of looking. He stands out so stunningly from the boorish crowd. Most guests went for bright and glittering and colors, sending sparks of light dancing as they move. But not the tailor who wears a deep purple vest and lilac shirt underneath. His pants are either black or midnight blue, but at this distance with the chandeliers so high above them, Dee can’t tell which. His jacket is midnight blue, but it has red stitching and the kingdom’s sigil done in red in honor of the king.

But the most impressive thing about the outfit is mask he is sporting. It is a dragon mask done in shades of green and yellow. A dragon mask alone would have been bold, would have garnered looks (if you wore dragons, it was for strength and courage and because you believed you could be equal to those legendary beasts, gone for a century). And to do it in green and yellow, the colors of the Prince and Prince Consort, well...it was bold, certainly. Some might call it arrogant. Remus would call it attractive.

Dee considers it an invitation.

Dee watches Virgil Tailor for a moment longer and then heads for a drink. He sips it slowly, politely ignoring anyone who tries to talk to him, and lets his eyes bounce from the gorgeous man making small talk with someone he has likely never met and then to the platform that Remus will enter from. Remus will accuse him of cheating if he approaches Virgil before he has even entered the room. So Dee will wait, and then Dee will make his move.

Dee has about as much enthusiasm for waiting games as Remus. Meaning, he’ll give him thirty more seconds to show his face.

When Remus does appear on the dais, the room goes appropriately silent. Dee thinks it’s likely from the cresting horror as his outfits registers with them. The applause starts slowly as Remus walks down the staircase, and Dee is once again forced to smother his laughter at the looks on the audience’s faces. Across the room, Dee can see Virgil doing the same.

Dee beelines for Virgil the second Remus is on the floor. He can feel the curious gazes following him, undoubtedly wondering why he’s heading away from his husband and the Prince instead of toward him for their first dance of the night. The polite thing to do, and the correct procedure for an event, is to dance first with your known romantic entanglements and then with other high ranking nobles who might borrow you for a dance.

Luckily, Dee, Remus, and Virgil can all agree on at least one thing: procedure? Boring.

Dee bows in front of Virgil and offers him a hand. “May I have this dance?”

Virgil takes his hand. “Of course, Prince Consort,” he murmurs, every bit the shy, demure person other believed him to be. “I would be delighted.”

Dee swings them into the dancing in a waltz, and they blend seamlessly into the crowd of other spinning couples. Well, perhaps not seamlessly. They are two of the three people who are not wearing some sort of brightly colored, reflecting materials, and Dee is as close to royalty as one can be. There is a certain space made around them that draws attention from everyone.

“You look ravishing, as always,” Dee says. Virgil is taller than him by three inches, taller than Remus by one. He has to look up to speak to him so closely, but he doesn’t mind one bit.

Virgil blushes slightly, something that Dee still delights in even after so much time together. He has never met another person who can be embarrassed into blushing with just a nice word so regularly. “I would say the same to you, but that would feel like giving myself a compliment,” Virgil mutters in his ear. The laugh that escapes Dee is entirely unexpected and genuine and just loud enough that the couples dancing near them look harder.

Everyone is wondering who Dee Salvi, Prince Consort, could have abandoned the Prince of the kingdom to dance with. No one at the ball would likely recognize him, even if Virgil forewent a disguise entirely. Most nobles don’t pay much attention to the people who are below them. Dee basks in their ignorance in a snake sunbathing.

“A compliment well earned,” Dee says. “Though I suppose you probably made half the costumes in this room.”

“Something like that,” Virgil says, and his accent slips into those words just enough to make them lilt. This language is not the common tongue, and it’s not his native language. It’s what the nobles and royals speak. Virgil had admitted that he had only learned it to get better jobs from people that would pay more. Sometimes, in some phrases or when he gets excited, the accent from the commoner language buoys his words. Dee always thought the commoner language was much more musical than the other, always found it soothing even before he started learning it.

The music begins to slow, and Dee gives Virgil a hopeful look. Virgil laughs and shakes his head. “You have to at least give Remus a chance,” he chides quietly. “Now either go dance with your husband or find somewhere else to be. It would be improper of you to stay with me for a second dance.”

“Fuck proper,” Dee mutters, but he obligingly releases Virgil’s hands - after kissing the back of one and smiling at the disapproving clucks coming from all the nearby couples. He is the Prince Consort, and he is bold enough to openly flirt with a man who is not his Prince. How strange. How rude. How arrogant. How...fitting.

Most people don’t really like the Prince Consort because he looks like he’d be an ass. Dee knows. Dee doesn’t care. He’s a pain in Remus’s ass and Virgil’s ass (not that anyone knows that yet), and that’s what’s important.

Dee picks up a glass of water and takes a sip. He tries not to smirk at those openly staring at him like a runaway circus animal. He won’t do tricks for their amusement, only his own.

It definitely does tickle him when Remus sweeps up to his side and guests either ogle them, look hastily away, or both one after the other. Remus leans in close to him and whispers, “The guards gave me their condolences on losing such a nice man. And then my brother berated me for doing something to scare you off. Dee, you should have told me you were leaving me!” Dee snorted.

“I thought you might enjoy that,” he says. Remus smiles.

“You do know me so well,” Remus sighs. “It is a true shame, then, that I must be off. I hear a tailor calling my name, desiring to dance.” Remus whisks himself away in a flurry of greens, and Dee smiles fondly after him.

Then, Dee makes his way to the wall of the ballroom and and finds an empty standing table. He leans against it to watch his beloveds be so cavalier in their dancing. Remus could dance far better than he is, but instead he leads them around the floor in a senseless, rhythmless pattern that only serves to frustrate other couples and attract the attention of anyone who wants to gossip. Meaning, everyone.

Dee lets his eyes flit to the _ gracious _ King Roman, who threw this ball at his brother’s request and even allowed Remus and Dee to handle most of the guest list (it is the only way they could get Virgil an invitation without letting Roman know directly). He had even been so kind as to not ask what the ball was for, only make Remus promise not to do anything that would get them in trouble. They had both sworn it. And they hadn’t been lying. They weren’t doing it for trouble, they were doing for love (and spectacle, but that was a given.)

Roman was watching his brother, looking very obviously concerned. Beside him was Prince Consort Patton Hart, cooing something to him. His eyes were also locked on Remus and the nonsense dance he was performing. On the king’s other side and slightly back stood the royal advisor, Logan Cato. Unknown to everyone but the guards and royal family, Logan was actually the other Prince Consort. He, too, was watching Remus though his was more a look of alarm than anything else. He leaned forward to say something to Roman. Dee goes back to watching Remus swing Virgil around the floor like an over-excited puppy.

As the song ends, Remus also kisses the back of Virgil’s hand and takes his leave. Dee watches Virgil float through the crowd, not staying put long enough to get pulled into another conversation. Remus stops at the table Dee has claimed.

“I suppose the next dance is ours,” Dee says.

“No,” Remus says. “You should go dance with Virgil. We had this whole ball for him, it wouldn’t do to leave him out there alone when he so obviously doesn’t know how to make the kind of small talk this rank of person prefers.” The look on Remus’s face is sympathetic. He doesn’t really understand this brand of small talk either.

“As you wish, my Prince,” Dee purrs. He kisses the back of Remus’s hand. “Before I go, Roman was watching you dance. They’re worried.”

“They’re paying attention,” Remus corrects with a smirk. “And attention is exactly what we want.” Dee smiles too and turns around to scan the room for Virgil. He’s closer than expected, only a half dozen tables away, chatting with a server. He probably knows every person working this event. Dee wonders if the people employed for these things always know what’s going on before anyone else. It’s easy to forget just how much they bare witness to.

“Hello, dear,” Dee says. He doesn’t bow this time. He just extends his hand. “Would you like to dance with me?” From the sly smirk on the server’s face, Dee guesses he was already well aware of their standing. Virgil still blushes.

“I would love to,” he says. Dee leads them to the dance floor. This song is quicker than the ones they’ve already been dancing too. Dee and Virgil are forced to improvise twirls and dips and everything else to keep up with the crowd. When Virgil starts laughing, Dee can’t keep the smile off his face either. They are both near to collapsing when the song begins to end.

“Dee,” Virgil says, “would you like to make a scene with me?”

“Dear, I would love nothing more,” Dee says and as the final note rises into the air Dee and Virgil lean into each other for the kiss everyone’s been unknowingly waiting for all evening.

Scandalized gasps rip through the air. Dee pulls back and Remus is standing by his side. The stares turn expectant. They think that Remus will dispense some punishment for his unfaithful consort, likely.

“Is it my turn now?” Remus whines. His eyes are shining brightly as Virgil leans down to kiss him next. The round of gasps that echoes around the room this time is even louder. When they pull apart, Remus pulls Dee into a kiss just to seal the deal. There is a third round of gasps, going rather overboard if you ask Dee, and then Remus smiles, waves at the audience and pulls them both out of the ballroom.

They all three are laughing as they stumble out and collapse a few hallways over. Dee is snorting in the most inelegant way he ever has, and it’s spurring both his partners on. Virgil’s face is bright red and he’s trying to hide it in Remus’s shoulder, but Remus keeps pulling away to pepper little kisses all over Virgil’s face. All three of their masks are discarded on the floor.

When Dee sees King Roman walking down the hall toward them, flanked by his two consorts (and his personal guard, though they are far enough away that they won’t hear anything said) he smacks at Remus and Virgil and they scramble up to face him.

“Hey, Roman!” cries Remus, wrapping one arm around Virgil’s waist. “What brings you here?”

“What brings me-? Really, Remus? You know damn well why I’m here,” snaps their king. Despite being his brother, Roman is still king. What he says, goes.

“Oh! Should I guess? Is it because you still have butt worms? Or-”

“Remus!” Roman shouts, cutting him off. “That’s disgusting! Shut up!” He waves his hand, and Patton takes his other hand. Roman sighs. “You could have warned me if you were planning on doing something like that.”

“You would have told me not to!” Remus protests.

“Yes, because-”

“Excuse me?” Virgil says, cutting off Roman. Dee resists the urge to whistle. It’s a ballsy move, but everything about tonight was so it makes sense to keep the ball rolling. “Your Majesty, Prince Consorts.” Virgil bows his head. “It is, uh, nice to meet you. Uhm, formally.” He smiles nervously. It is the least accented Dee has ever heard him talk. He wants nothing more than to reach out and take Virgil’s hand. He’s too far, though, so Dee leans as close as he can to Remus instead.

“What’s your name?” Roman asks. Remus bristles at the tone, but Virgil clears his throat, takes a step forward to stand on his own, and meets the King’s eyes.

“I am Virgil Tailor,” he says. Patton’s eyes widen, but Dee shakes his head slightly. Princes aren’t meant to dally with commoners, but this isn’t a dalliance and if Patton says anything that makes Virgil question his place, there will be a problem.

“Well, Virgil Tailor, it is a true pleasure to make the acquaintance of someone who can keep Remus in check. Is this something you can do?” Virgil nods hesitantly. Roman smiles. “Then your company will be a balm to my brother’s brash instincts. It is my pleasure to greet you, formally, and I hope to get to know you more in the future.” Virgil bows his head again, smile realer.

“You also,” he says.

“For now, though, I must be off.” Roman sends Remus the stink eye. “I am going to have to go deal with the legal ramifications of what just went on. For once in your life, Remus, could you please think ahead?”

“I did! And I thought you’d stop me! So I didn’t say anything.” Roman groans. Remus cackles and pulls Virgil and Dee both back into his embrace.

“Lay low for a couple days while we see what the backlash is,” Roman sighs. He eyes Dee. “I expected more from you.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Dee says. Roman sticks his tongue out and then walks away with his two consorts in tow. Remus giggles delightedly and they head off for his and Dee’s rooms. Tonight, they will all sleep in the same bed and Virgil won’t have to disappear himself before the cleaner comes in. In the morning, they will be able to sleep as late as they want. And maybe after that they meet with Remus’s brother to see how their stunt was received. Until then, though, Dee is going to take it easy and relax with his partners. A ball really does take it out of you.


End file.
